


Almost Christmas

by drnsgrumpycop (babybluecas)



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Christmas, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybluecas/pseuds/drnsgrumpycop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Dorian's surprise, John isn't really against a little Christmas celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first shot at Almost Human and my first shot at science fiction ever, I hope I didn't bend many rules.

“I know what you’ll say,” Dorian begins without even letting John say a word and switches his voice to John’s, “I don’t do Christmas.”

“Why would I say that?” John asks, hiding the annoyance.

The voice imitation was funny the first couple of times. Now it only makes him a bit uneasy. Especially when it comes to his own voice.

“Because you’re grumpy. Kinda Grinch type,” Dorian teases, with this shit-eating grin of his. “And lonely,” he adds more seriously.

“Grinch type? Wow, thanks,” John snarks and turns around to pick his jacket up. “And I’m not lonely,” he murmurs with his face away.

“You’re not?” Dorian’s remark sounds daring.

“I have you, now, don’t I?” John shrugs and shoots Dorian a smile.

“Yeah, you do.”

John locks the door behind them. There’s still a whole day of work ahead of them, before they can even start to plan anything. Hopefully there are no terrorists, murderers or other evil Santas to piss on their little Christmas party.

“So what? You wanna trim the tree, drink eggnog and watch ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’?”

“Except for drinking, yeah, why not.”

“Alright,” John agrees.

“Alright.”

“Fair warning, though, I missed two Christmases while I was comatose, I expect a lot of gifts to make up for it.”

John starts regretting his merry attitude towards Christmas the very next day, wandering around the mall. What on earth is he supposed to buy for a robot? And with only one day left 'til the Eve. He could have agreed that he’s grumpy - not like it’s a secret. As for loneliness… that was true, too, because - Dorian or not - for the Christmas kind of loneliness, there’s much more needed.

But no, he decided to be Mister Christmas this year, and that means presents.

It feels like he’s wandered the whole mall up and down ten times already, passing displays in the windows, unsure which shop he should even step his foot in. He can’t exactly buy him a book or a CD, since Dorian’s got access to every single word and song and a movie there is. How about some new clothes? Something nice, a shirt maybe, light blue to match his eyes…

He passes another shop and decides to buy the Christmas tree first. He picks the first one he sees, big enough to look festive, not so huge to fill half of the room and be non-transportable. Thick branches, prickling green needles, even smells of a forest, but it’s not a real tree. Buying natural trees hasn’t been legal for a long time. But John still remembers those, from when he was a kid, and the synthetic ones just aren’t the same. An almost tree for almost Christmas.

By four he’s completely fed up with this place, with lights and Christmas music pouring from the speakers. Even his prosthetic seems to be begging for a break. He gives up eventually and defeated comes back to his apartment with the tree, whole load of food he’ll eat alone, and nothing for Dorian.

When John comes back to his apartment, he’s not terribly surprised to find it all decorated in Christmas lights.

“I hope you left some for the tree!” he calls from the hall, dragging the fake green thing in, but he’s met with silence.

That doesn’t surprise him either, it’s been a few weeks since Dorian started to come and go as he pleases, cracking the code to his door, sometimes bringing breakfast before work, sometimes popping in after to watch a movie.

What  _ is _ surprising, is how quickly John got used to the situation. It’s like the guy lives there, and it should piss John off, an intruder in his home, but it’s nice, actually. Having lived alone since he woke up from coma to his girlfriend gone, he was more than fine with apartment for himself. Now, it just gets weirdly quiet when Dorian leaves for the recharge.

There’s a box full of oldschool Christmas decorations waiting in the living room. He decides he can do at least this much alone, to get into the festive mood. Wherever Dorian found these, they aren’t stuff that can be bought in a regular store anymore. In fact, John hasn’t seen anything like them since he was a kid.

He hangs big, blue balls and tiny, white snowflakes. When he reaches for a sparkling angel with fluffy wings, he needs to take a refill of eggnog before he can continue.

“What the hell?” he murmurs at some of the weirder shapes, and puts them aside, because no way they’re going on the tree.

The star that goes on top is golden and shiny. John climbs to his tiptoes to place it and when the tree leans dangerously, he thinks he could really use some help. To make it worse, a phone ring gets him caught in the most stupid position.

“Dori-“ he begins, before he remembers Dorian isn’t there.

With a sigh, he puts the ornament down.

“Sandra, hey.”

He pours another glass of eggnog, pressing the cell to his ear. He notes that he’ll need to ask Dorian to get more on his way.

Dorian, right. He suddenly realizes the gift idea for the guy was there all along, right before his eyes. Only he’s gonna need some help.

“Wait,” he says, before Sandra can hang up, “may I ask you a favor?”

 

_ Sleeeep in heeeeavenly peeeeace! _

John breaks the note with a chuckle at Dorian’s high pitched forte.

“This is stupid,” he mumbles. “I’m not even religious or anything.”

“You practice the rest of the celebration, why not carols?”

At the question John shrugs, because it’s not like he is celebrating. Or not like he would if it wasn’t for Dorian’s proposition, so he decides to go with honesty this time.

“I’m only doing it because of you.”

“Wait, you said…” Dorian starts, more with a “I knew it, duh” than with an actual surprise.

“I know what I said, shut up and give me my presents.”

John only says it to change the topic, he’s not really expecting a gift, let alone  _ three _ . Dorian’s not paid for his job after all. And yet he jumps to his feet and disappears, just to emerge back, carrying two boxes.

“Alright, so I did a shortcut, and the first gift were the ornaments, I thought you might like them,” he explains, sitting back on the sofa right next to John.

“Whoah, you know I was  _ joking _ with expecting—” John stares at the boxes slightly taken aback.

“I know, hence the shortcut.” Dorian grins. “Here, open.”

John proceeds to unwrapping the red paper from the first gift and a loud laughter escapes his mouth as he opens the box and sees a coffee cup with a lid.

“Cute, no more body parts in my coffee,” he comments and by Dorian’s smile he knows he got his intentions right. “Swear to God, Dorian, if the second one is olive oil—”

And for a second, when he takes the package, he suspects it  _ is _ olive oil, but unwrapped, the paper reveals different, golden liquid filling the bottle.

“Nice, thanks.” He puts the whiskey down and gets up. “Okay, my turn.”

Dorian doesn’t react, until John asks him to follow.

The present is not something that can be carried out and took quite a lot of trouble to transport in the first place, so he’d better like it. He leads Dorian to the room, which always kind of served as a storage. It’s pretty small and still messy, but now it has everything it needs in it. And John really owes Maldonado a big one.

“I figured that is something you wanted, I mean, it’s kind of temporary…” He starts rambling, because the stupid idea he’s hadn’t much time to think through has suddenly become real.

But it was surely worth it, if only for the dumbstruck expression on Dorian’s face alone.

It’s just a charging station a.k.a Dorian’s bed, placed by one of the walls. “Just” a charging station, but it means “welcome home”. John never thought to ask if that’s what Dorian wanted. Escaping the lifeless eyes of Ken Dolls was one thing, moving in with John was another. But it’s not a big deal, is it? It’s only temporary, after all. Friends crash at friends’ places, right?

“John…” Dorian says finally, visibly moved, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome, just wanted to save you from the MXs,” John explains and then starts to mumble quickly again. “It’s not like, uh, you know… it’s good enough for now. You can figure it out later. You’re here all the time anyway.”

For a moment John’s worried that maybe Dorian got some wires fried, not a word for such a long time is unusual for the guy, but all seems to be fine, only he’s so moved as if John proposed to him or something. Oh, what the hell…

“Dorian, would you move in with me?” John’s tone is grotesquely serious, and it finally makes Dorian break the moment with his laughter.

“Thanks again, man,” he says as they come back to the living room, where the movie and whatever’s left of eggnog are waiting for them.

“You know what?” John begins, fetching the bottle of whiskey and taking a moment to look at the clear, amber liquid in it. “Since you don’t have to leave for the night, we should really try to find out if you have a drunk mode in there.”

Dorian doesn’t have a drunk mode, but John surely does, and when his throat gets sore from singing carols and he finally decides it’s time for bed, it feels good to know that Dorian doesn’t have to go anywhere.

  
  



End file.
